


The Merchant's Homecoming

by LochAndLoad



Series: Sparrow's Flight [1]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AKA the AU where Tony was never rescued by Rhodey, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anwaar Khan Is Tony Stark, F/M, Ficlet, Gen, Kamala Khan POV, Kamala Khan is 11 and too cute, One Shot, Or is at least trying to be, Other, Sparrow's Flight AU, Tony Stark Has Blue Eyes dammit, Tony Stark Is Dead Long Live Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LochAndLoad/pseuds/LochAndLoad
Summary: A 3AM run-in with her mysterious 'uncle' reveals big secrets to young Kamala Khan.
Relationships: Kamala Khan & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Khan Family
Series: Sparrow's Flight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834090
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	The Merchant's Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this whole AU in 2015 and now I finally had time to sit down and write something from it??
> 
> Miracles, I tell ya.
> 
> I have a whole plot and multi-chapter fic about this AU waiting to be written out in full, but this scene came to me and demanded to see the light of day. Basic AU premise is: Rhodey never found Tony in Afghanistan and brought him home, leaving Tony to wonder the desert until a refugee group - containing one Aunt Ayesha - took him in under the premise that he was a lost US soldier escaping from the Ten Rings (and the trauma) like the rest of them. Tony Stark is declared dead and he doesn't correct them, eventually being adopted into the Khan family in Jersey City as Anwaar while moonlighting as a scrapyard Iron Man.
> 
> When I've finished my current WIPs, I plan to go full speed ahead with this AU but for now, enjoy this snippet into Kamala's POV!

Kamala woke up at 3:17AM with a parched throat and a _really_ dirty glass on her bedside table.

A quick bathroom rinse certainly wouldn’t suffice and she couldn’t go back to sleep like this, so instead she slipped out of bed, quiet as a mouse, and edged out of her room with glass in hand. There were a couple lamps in the hallway left on during the night for reasons such as this, so Kamala focused her energy on avoiding the creaking parts of the floorboards and getting by her Auntie’s room without a fuss.

Auntie Ayesha had only been home for a few days now, but Kamala already knew how badly she slept most nights. Ammi told her and Aamir that her sister had suffered greatly after being forced out of Karachi by the Ten Rings, and would have nightmares for years to come; it would be best not to pry so you children don’t upset her even more. Aamir seemed to gleam more from Ammi’s words than she’d said, leaving Kamala’s wild imagination to wonder the horrors her Auntie had faced in the barren desert.

And what had made her bring Uncle Anwaar to Jersey City with her.

He wasn’t _actually_ their uncle by blood or marriage — anyone with half a brain could see how White he was, even with his tanned olive skin and dark hair — but that made it even more peculiar. Abu and Ammi vouched for his visa, despite admitting that they had no idea who he was. Auntie obviously convinced them he was worth it, somehow.

(The story of the Partition rang through her mind, the heroic lesson Ammi drilled into her from birth that led her to one of her best friends in the universe.

Her parents always practiced what they preached, setting a stellar example for Kamala to follow for the rest of her life, but how far they went for Anwaar was unlike anything they’d done before.

Needless to say, she was incredibly proud, if a lil’ confused.)

She tried to ask Aamir about it, but her older brother in all his holy wisdom only parroted Prophet Muhammid’s (alayhi as-salām) words to her that she didn’t bother listening to. If she wanted the Quran blabbed at her, she would’ve gone to see Sheikh Abdullah with Nakia.

Kamala shook her head and yawned as she made it downstairs successfully. Maybe she could ask Anwaar himself, if he ever came out of the basement for more than five minutes a day. She considered herself a patient 11 year old; she could wait him out easily! If he was gonna be her uncle for real like Auntie said he was, no one could blame her for wanting to get to know him!

Kamala smiled to herself and walked into the dark kitchen with a new fire under her feet.

The blue glowing man standing at the open pantry turned to her.

She dropped the glass. It shattered all over the tile floor. Her scream came out a wheeze.

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” The glowing man jumped to the light switch and flicked it on.

Fluorescent light filled the room, revealing Anwaar himself — shirtless and covered in the remains of Auntie’s mango samosas. Kamala couldn’t take her eyes off the gaping, glowing hole in the middle of his chest, couldn’t blink away the deep scars littering his skin like bleeding stars. 

Anwaar covered the hole with one hand, cutting off its blue light, and stepped towards her with an outstretched palm. She flinched and stepped back— 

“No!” He hissed, freezing up. “Don’t… Don’t move, sweetheart. There’s glass everywhere and the last thing we need is for you to get hurt, right?”

Kamala could only nod, her voice trapped in the heart lodged in her throat. Anwaar relaxed and smiled, shaky but genuine. 

“Stay right there… Cammie?” He raised an eyebrow and she shook her head in answer, slowing down her breathing. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face, through his thick beard to mutter into it. 

(“God fucking dammit, Tony you idiot.” She was sure he said.

It was the last thing she could focus on right now.)

Anwaar took a deep breath, meeting her with his kind blue eyes and a wide smile that made his eyes crease in the same way Abu’s did when she brought home an excellent report card. He crouched down, keeping his distance and his voice down.

“I’m gonna clean up the glass, so I need you to stay still until it’s all gone, okay?” 

Kamala gave a curt nod, too stiff and shuttered to try speaking or do much else. Her toes curled up tight and it was all she could do to not hyperventilate into a panic right now.

She’d seen cuts and scrapes before, had been an eyewitness to the bicycle accident that snapped Bruno’s ulna right through the skin — that’d been gnarly and so, _so_ gross — but those were a whole different universe to what Anwaar was trying to hide from her right now.

He stayed crouched, carefully sweeping up shards of glass with his bare hands. They were scarred too, rugged skin scabbed over long piano fingers made him look rough. Some were much older than others though; what did he do before the war?

Keeping focus on his hands rather than his eyes, Kamala found herself free to jump back in no time. Anwaar stayed in position, face falling as he watched her. He must’ve seen her fear, the scream yet to escape, for him to look so sad.

She just swallowed and said nothing.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Kamala tilted her head, blinking. What secret? The glass? Ammi would need to know one of her glasses got broken! Or was it his chest?

Surely that wasn’t it; a doctor had to know about it at least. Auntie, Abu and Ammi too, it wasn’t exactly something you could hide easily for a long time!

Anwaar sat up, showing off more light. She took a proper look this time, blocking out the open scars and bloody poorly-healed wounds, into the blue itself. Arcs of energy bounced within its walls, shining bright like a beacon.

It looked powerful.

“This is an arc reactor,” Anwaar said slowly, pointing to his chest. “It’s a big electromagnet that stops a buncha bomb shrapnel from piercing my organs, and it keeps my heart pumping too.”

“Like a fancy pacemaker.” Kamala mumbled, wringing her hands as she tried not to say he’d survived what had killed her grandparents.

She had a feeling Auntie already told him.

Anwaar laughed, almost in shock, and shook his head. “Yeah, ‘spose it is, huh?”

Kamala bit her lip, lest her giggle wake everyone else up. She nodded anyway, eyes skirting all over the room.

“Don’t tell anyone about it, okay?” Anwaar watched her, sliced eyebrow raising in patience.

Ammi and Abu had to know, otherwise they wouldn’t let him stay. Liars had no place in the Khan house! Assured by her trusted company, Kamala smiled brightly.

“Okay!”

He smiled back, the arc’s spark finally reaching his bright blue eyes. He gave her a thumb’s up and then stood to full height — he wasn’t much taller than her, putting her eye-level to the arc reactor for the first time.

It didn’t look so scary now.

“There’s no more glass, so you can move around more.”

Right, that. Kamala gave a quick glance anyway, then stepped back until she was out of the kitchen proper. Anwaar stayed, milling about with a hand full of broken glass and dumping them in an embroidered wash towel.

He’d have to beg for Ammi’s forgiveness, Kamala laughed.

Anwaar turned back to her. “Did you need something?”

Oh. Yeah. She came down here for a reason.

“Water.”

“Coming right up.” He scurried through the cupboards, quiet as a mouse and just as lost. Kamala stifled another laugh.

“Above the sink.”

He mumbled something in Not-English or Urdu and quickly moved, taking a small glass down. It was filled and handed to her in moments, and Kamala smiled as she took a sip.

Ah, sweet sweet, unfiltered generic tap water. Her throat would thank her in the morning.

“Thank you, Uncle Anwaar.” She beamed at him, paying no mind to how he froze, staring with glistening eyes.

“No, uh - it’s no problem, kiddo.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. “You better get back to sleep. Ayesha says you’ve gotta go to the mosque tomorrow, right?”

Kamala nodded and shuffled between the kitchen tile and the hallway carpet. Her whole family would be there for the first time ever! She couldn’t wait for Auntie to meet Nakia and everyone! She could tell Nakia all about Anwaar too —

“Are you coming with us?”

Anwaar’s face fell, blanking completely as he pursed his lips. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Nah, I’m gonna be out looking for a job.” He shrugged, hunching slightly. “I’m too hard-hearted for that. From growing up Catholic, y’know?”

He laughed but Kamala didn’t get it. Sheikh Abdullah always said Allah could reach _anybody!_ She knew not everyone shared the same faith — Bruno was Catholic as well, and his Nonna went to Church three times a week! — but… nothing?

She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Anwaar was cleaning up the countertops now, all but ignoring her. She sipped from the glass and sighed. She needed to get back to sleep before this kept her up all night and napping on the prayer mats.

“G’night, Uncle Anwaar.”

He turned to her, bowing his head. 

“Goodnight.”

Sleep came easily enough after all.

**0XX0**

The next morning, Kamala kept to herself at the dining table, munching on a granola bar as she watched Ammi fuss over Abu and Aamir endlessly. Auntie was aside with Anwaar, smoothing out the collar of his borrowed blazer despite his protests.

“You may not fashion, but you hardly know how to dress!” Auntie huffed and patted his shoulders, seemingly done.

Anwaar groaned. “That’s the same thing, Ayesha!”

Ammi darted between them, giving her nod of approval. “Agree to disagree; you look presentable now.”

Kamala giggled as Anwaar rubbed down his face, pouting when Auntie grabbed his wrists and tidied his thick beard.

“You may be a mechanic, but all jobs require a presentable front.” Abu nodded, tightening his tie. Ammi made a note of disapproval and went to bother Aamir again.

“Mechanics are grease monkeys, this is so wrong.” Anwaar whined but made no move against Abu’s words. A wise uncle indeed.

“Good luck, Uncle Anwaar!” Kamala cheered, and Auntie laughed high and shrill.

“Now you’ll definitely find work!”

Ammi left Aamir to tut over Kamala now, brushing off granola crumbs and licking her thumb to wipe her cheek clean. Kamala squirmed away and died a little inside.

“Kamala, are you sure about _this?”_ Ammi poked at Kamala’s bright red hijab wrapped tightly around her head, in the same style as Auntie’s and Ammi’s.

She nodded, smiling. “Yes, Ammi! I wanna wear it today.”

It was her best headscarf, even if it was kinda itchy from sitting in her closet for ages. But that didn’t matter! Auntie was going to the masjid for prayer for the first time in forever! And she was meeting the whole neighbourhood, so Kamala _had_ to help make a good impression.

(And if everyone saw how cool her aunt was, they’d see Kamala was too.)

Ammi sighed and kissed her forehead. “If that’s what you want, beta.”

Kamala’s smile brightened and she caught Anwaar’s eye. He winked at her, smiling too. He was rubbing his palm against his chest, no light visible in the day. She wanted to ask about it, learn everything about the arc reactor, but no; she made a promise.

(She was already cool - she knew the best secret in the world!)

“I’ll see you at dinner, or whenever you get back.” Anwaar side-stepped Auntie, making a bee-line to the front door and slipping on his old boots that they had yet to replace.

“You could always meet up with his at the masjid,” Auntie said with a teasing tilt; they’d talked about this before.

(Kamala wasn’t sure if an atheist - thank you, Aamir - would be overly welcome, but he’d been brought into their home without complaint and wasn’t disrespectful at all, so anything was possible at this point.)

“Ayesha, I already told you…” Anwaar groaned, obviously resisting the urge to run his head through his tied back hair.

“I know!” Auntie held her hands up, sating. “I’m just reminding you that the invitation is there, even for a dirty infidel like you.”

Ammi gasped, slapping her hands over Kamala’s baby ears; Abu nearly strangled himself on his tie; Aamir gaped wide at Auntie.

Anwaar was busting a gut laughing against the door at the age-old inside joke.

 _“_ **_Ayesha!!_ ** _”_ Ammi hissed, her haste ear muffs utterly failing at their one job. Kamala giggled into the folds of her hijab.

“What?” Auntie’s look of complete innocence sent Anwaar into another fit. “He’s not offended, see?”

Anwaar wheezed.

“Sister,” Abu fixed himself up and set his firm eye upon Auntie. “We love you dearly, but Muneeba and I would appreciate you not spreading _that_ language in our home, especially around the children.”

“I’m not a child,” Aamir grumbled alone in his corner.

Auntie sobered, bowing her head to Abu. “Of course, Yusef. My apologies.”

“Thank you, Ayesha.” Ammi let go of Kamala and let out a long breath. “Let’s get going. We’re going to be late.”

Kamala jumped out of her seat, buzzing to get out and show off Auntie to the whole wide world. Maybe Anwaar would change his mind and come too— 

The front door was open and empty. He was out on the wind, like a ghost.

Just as mysterious as one too.

Kamala figured she had much to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any mistakes, especially concerning Muslim/Pakistani language and culture, please let me know! I did as much research as I could, but there's always a chance I misunderstood or missed something important.
> 
> Comments, kudos and bookmarks mean everything to me <3 Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://lochdandloaded.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/LochAndLoad) for extra art, AUs and ramblings from yours truly. Or chat to me (LochAndLoad#1845) on discord!


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